


The Danger of Hope

by Dibsanddabs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brainwashing, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Shrinkyclinks Fest 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23910550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dibsanddabs/pseuds/Dibsanddabs
Summary: “Do not underestimate the danger of hope, Mr Rumlow. People become unpredictable with even a sliver of it.” The Director looked away from the agent again. Instead he looked back towards the screen to see the cell door opening, a slight figure being pushed through into the cell. “Steven Rogers was trying to give them hope.”-In a world where Hydra rules, Steve Rogers has been helping in the fight against their tyranny. When the Winter Soldier starts to break his conditioning, The Director decides it's time to take care of the problem. But will the asset be able to break Steve? Or will Steve break the asset instead?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 22
Kudos: 90
Collections: Shrinkyclinks Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I left this until the last minute, but it's here! I'm pretty proud of this fic so I'm glad I got it finished in time! 
> 
> Prompt 51: Steve is given to the winter soldier by Hydra since they need him calmer for the missions and lately the chair has been having the side effect of extreme aggression and anxiety. Steve realises that Bucky is as much of a prisoner as him and fight to get them both out.
> 
> I hope I did the prompt justice, and I put my own little spin on it too. Kudos and Comments greatly appreciated!
> 
> The M rating is for violence.

The Director looked around the room. They’d lost some valuable equipment and a handful of personnel. The chair would need repairing and it was impossible to tell how long that would take. At a glance the damage seemed minimal but they’d need to take it apart to find the extent of the issue. 

“He did this as soon as the wipe was finished?” The Director asked the agent, one of the few people who’d been in the room when it happened. At least, one of the few who’d survived. 

“As soon as he was released from the restraints.” The agent confirmed. “He’s been getting harder to control. Nothing we’ve tried seems to calm him for long and now it looks like wiping him has stopped working as well. He’s become… non-compliant.” 

The implication was clear in his voice. If the asset no longer followed orders, there was very little point in keeping him. However, he was valuable. A lot of resources would have been wasted if they simply got rid of him now. 

“I know what to do,” said the Director. “Leave him locked up for now. I’ll need access at the end of the day.” 

-

The soldier looked down at his boot, the streak of spit standing out against the dusty leather. He looked up, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the man who’d spat at him. 

“I’m not doing anything you say.” The small, blond man said, a fierce edge to his voice. The soldier found it hard to believe this man was considered a threat. He didn’t seem particularly strong, or stealthy, or to pose any danger in any discernible way. It didn’t matter though, it wasn’t his job to question his orders. He was to retrieve this man alive, although they hadn’t required him to be undamaged.

“You’re coming with us.” The soldier said, his voice firm and steady. “If you do it quietly we won’t have to make an example of you.” 

“Like I give a shit about that.” The target said. “Get out of my house.” 

“One more chance. Or I’ll drag you there by your hair.” There was back up outside, the general patrol of this area was notified before he was sent on the retrieval mission. He didn’t call them in though. It would only be an intimidation tactic, and he had a feeling that sort of thing wouldn’t work on this target. 

“Fuck you.” The target didn’t back away, standing firm for a fight he couldn’t possibly win. Unarmed, no protection, he was a stupid to even try. The soldier flicked his wrist to extend his baton.

By the time the target was loaded into the armoured car, the soldier had a bleeding lip and a bruise that would soon become a prominent black eye. While his pride was injured, at least he could take comfort in the fact that his target looked far worse off from the fight.

“Looks like he got you there.” Another soldier said with a chuckle, nodding towards him. 

“Yeah, he got a couple lucky hits in.” 

“Not sure it’s just lucky, man. This one’s feisty. Best not to underestimate him. We wouldn’t be taking him in alive if he wasn’t interesting.” 

“Why are we taking him in again?”

-

“This seems like an unusual plan, sir.” The agent said, hovering nearby to the Director and the new scientists they’d brought in to monitor the asset.

“Two birds with one stone.” The Director said. His face was unreadable, but there did seem to be a hint of amusement in his voice. The agent couldn’t help but feel that the Director was always one step ahead. No, scratch that, five steps ahead. He always had a plan far beyond anything he shared.

“Couldn’t this make the asset more aggressive sir?” The agent asked. He’d not been assigned to the asset for a particularly long time, no one ever truly was, but he’d grown to know his patterns and behaviours. The asset was normally more agitated after a mission, not calm. 

“It could. But we’ll have taken care of one bird at least.” 

“Bird, sir?” 

“An annoyance. Someone who’s been aiding networks of people who disagree with our beliefs. Causing disturbances. Encouraging non-compliance. A face of resistance.” The Director looked at the screen, watching the video of the asset locked in a cell. He was pacing, turning to hit the door every now and again. A far cry from his usual eerie stillness. “The asset will remove our friend from the equation. Afterwards he will either be calm or he won’t. If he isn’t, at least this disturbance will be taken care of and whatever friends this man has will shrink away back into the shadows once we show them the footage.”

“Is he really that much of a threat?” The agent spoke without thinking, he was questioning the Director too much. He saw by the look in the Director’s eye that he wouldn’t get the opportunity to question him like this again. 

“Do not underestimate the danger of hope, Mr Rumlow. People become unpredictable with even a sliver of it.” The Director looked away from the agent again. Instead he looked back towards the screen to see the cell door opening, a slight figure being pushed through into the cell. “Steven Rogers was trying to give them hope.”

-

The black bag was taken off his head before he was pushed into a small, harshly lit room. Steve squinted against the sudden brightness. He’d known this would probably happen eventually, Hydra wouldn’t allow him to live freely for long, but he hadn’t thought it would be this soon. It took him a moment to notice he wasn’t entirely alone in the room. The other man looked just as surprised to see him there. He looked pale, bags under his eyes and a tension across his whole body. His hair was dark and hung long around his face. Most noticeably, his entire left arm seemed to be made of metal.

He had to be Hydra, he had their stamp on his suit, but he didn’t have the usual disciplined determination in his eyes. He looked wild, angry, although it was dampened by the invasion of his privacy. At least, the idea of privacy. It wasn’t hard to spot the cameras watching them, presumably positioned in order to eliminate blind spots. Steve realised he was supposed to know they were watching, whatever happened next would probably become a warning for the others. He hoped they wouldn’t let it scare them. 

Steve turned his attention back to the other man - Agent? Soldier? - and raised his chin. If he was going to be made a martyr, he’d do it with his back straight and his head held high. 

But nothing happened. They both just stared at each other. The silence began to drag on until Steve finally decided to break it. 

“So who the hell are you?”


	2. Chapter 2

The question didn’t seem to register with Steve’s cellmate. Or at least he didn’t answer it. He only continued to stare for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

“Is this supposed to be scaring me?” Steve asked. His eyes flicked up to the camera. He was talking to the people behind it as much as he was talking to the figure in front of him. 

The man moved a little, but instead of moving forward towards Steve he took a step back. 

“Rank?” The man said, a sort of confusion settling over his features. 

“What?” 

“Your rank.” 

They stood in silence for a moment longer, as Steve realised the man seemed to think he was Hydra too. 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” He asked, looking around again. They were in a Hydra prison cell, as far as he could tell. He had no idea why this guy was here. It wouldn’t be below Hydra to throw one of their own soldiers in a cell like this to rot, but there was a general air of confusion that suggested this guy knew even less about the situation than Steve. “You don’t know why I’m here.” 

The silence that dragged out told Steve he was right. What sort of game was Hydra playing? Were they trying to get in his head? What could they possibly achieve by locking him up with someone who had no idea who he was?

“Rank.” The prisoner repeated again, perhaps some sort of protocol he was clinging onto in the unfamiliar circumstances. 

“I’m not one of you. I’m not Hydra scum.” Steve spat, already preparing himself for the fact he’d almost definitely made this situation worse. He saw something flash through the man’s eyes, but it settled back into muted confusion.

“Who are you?” He asked. 

“I’m no one.” Steve said. “Just a kid from Brooklyn. Ended up here in the same place as you though. Seems like that dedication to the cause didn’t pan out for you.” 

The man seemed to register that, looking down at himself and seeing the red Hydra skull stamped onto the left side of his chest. A mark of allegiance. Or ownership. A brand. He didn’t seem particularly happy to see it there. He slowly looked back up at Steve, his brow furrowed as he visibly searched his brain for the next step. 

“Mission?” 

Steve raised an eyebrow. None of this was going how he expected it to go, and his cellmate wasn’t exactly helping the situation. That was probably a good thing, though. He’d expected to be killed as soon as he arrived. This way, he had time to plan. Get word to the outside, maybe try to escape, or at least do something here that would help everyone else. 

“I’m not sure yet.” He answered honestly. “But I’ll tell you who I am.” 

-

Agent Rumlow frowned at the screens. For a full day, anyone who’d attempted to approach the asset had been attacked. And now some random guy off the street had rattled him. The Director might think that Rogers is a threat to Hydra, but the asset shouldn’t know or care about that. Rogers’ skull should be shattered against the concrete floor of the cell by now. He looked at the Director, expecting to see frustration, maybe even anger. But there was nothing like that. In fact, he was smiling. 

“Of course.” The Director said under his breath, before speaking up to give more orders. “Some footage will be sent to you, I expect it to be leaked to the proper channels by morning.” 

Rumlow opened his mouth, about to question what the hell this footage was supposed to achieve. Footage of their most powerful soldier halted by a stranger. He caught himself as the Director turned, giving him a look that invited no doubt. 

“Keep this contained, Rumlow.” The Director said. “Knowledge is power, afterall. And it puts a target on your back.” He gave one last nod before walking away, out of the room. “And get that chair fixed.” He shouted back over his shoulder.

Rumlow turned back to the screens, leaning forward to turn the volume up to listen to them. Whatever they were talking about was a major violation for the asset, communicating with an unknown, an enemy. Rumlow had little else to do, after all, until that footage was sent to him. 

-

“An… enemy of Hydra?” The soldier asked, a frown on his face. He wasn’t supposed to affiliate with enemies of Hydra, but one had been placed in his cell. He had no orders, no protocol to fall back on. He’d been placed in an alien situation and his head was too fuzzy to work out how he was supposed to act. Some of his conditioning was melting away but he couldn’t find anything to replace it yet.

“And fucking proud of it.” Steve said. 

The soldier had to take a moment to consider that. Perhaps Steve was here for reconditioning? Maybe that’s why they were being held together. Maybe they were both going to be reconditioned together. His thought process was interrupted by Steve speaking again. 

“So you know who I am. Who are you? You have a name?”

The soldier didn’t reply quickly. Thinking felt a little like walking through treacle. Every move was difficult and slow. 

“No.” 

He could see Steve’s brow furrow, then an eyebrow raise. 

“What do you mean no?” 

“You asked if I have a name. The answer is no.” The soldier said. It seemed simple to him, but Steve may also be having difficulty thinking. He didn’t know what type of conditioning enemies of Hydra were put through. 

“How can the answer be no? You’re a person. You were born. You have a name.” Steve looked more than a little confused. And for some reason he also looked angry, but he’d looked angry since he’d been brought here so the soldier thought that may not be directly related to his own lack of name. He just shrugged. 

“I am an asset of Hydra. I do not need a name.” He said. That’s what he’d been told at least. This seemed to take some of the tension out of Steve, but it didn’t look to be in a good way. More like defeat. 

“Well, whoever you are. I have no idea if you’re going to try and stop me, but I’m going to get out of here.”


	3. Chapter 3

Agent Rumlow was used to following orders, even if he didn’t understand them. He may be the asset’s new handler, but his clearance was still pretty low and he was often left without the whole truth. However, this new order had given him pause. 

He’d watched the footage he’d been sent. It didn’t make sense. He’d watched it over and over, trying to work out how it was faked. Eventually he realised it didn’t matter, it wasn’t his job to know that. He sent the video out, making sure it would be seen by anyone who would know what Steve Rogers stood for. Someone must have had this ready before Rogers had even been brought in, because a fake this good would have taken a while to make. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t what he’d seen on the cameras, that was for certain. 

Because the footage was of the asset killing Steve Rogers. 

-

The opportunity for escape didn’t come quickly. 

Steve spent the first week waiting. Always on edge. He’d tried looking outside when their food was pushed inside the door, slowly piecing together everything he could see in the corridor outside. He timed when the guards walked past, when they changed shifts. He watched the cameras, looking for any way to tamper with them. 

The problem was Bucky. 

At least that’s what Steve had started to call him. For a day or so he’d simply called him the soldier, but that grew tiresome quickly. 

-

They had been sat eating in silence on the second day. Steve was pushing the food around his tray, knowing he should eat to keep his strength up and trying to work up the willpower to swallow another mouthful of this beige, flavourless mush. 

“Are you unwell?” The soldier had asked. 

“No. I’m just wondering if Hydra count their food as a form of torture.” Steve said sarcastically, picking up his spoon again and making himself swallow it’s unappetising load. 

“It contains the necessary nutrients.” The soldier said with a shrug. He’d finished his food quickly, no complaints from him of course. “Not as efficient as intravenous nourishment, but necessary sometimes for the health of the digestive system.” 

Steve scoffed, shaking his head. “Man, they really did a number on you, didn’t they?” He said, mostly to himself. “You know people don’t have to be efficient. That’s not the purpose of people.” 

“What is?” 

The question actually surprised him. Steve hadn’t really expected the soldier to want existential answers, he seemed more like someone who did exactly what he was told without question. 

“Well… lots of people have different ideas. But I think our purpose is to do the most good we can. To do the best for the people around us as we can.”

“We could do more good things for people if we are efficient.” The soldier said.

“Yes but forcing someone to be efficient isn’t being good to them.” Steve said. “People should have the freedom to do things they want.” 

“And what if they want to do bad things?” The soldier asked. Through the whole conversation his facial expression had been largely blank, but at that last sentence he winced a little. He retreated into himself, shaking his head at his own question. “It’s not important. Hydra makes sure people aren’t dangerous.” 

“That isn’t freedom.” Steve said with a shake of his head. “That’s fear.” He sighed softly. It was the most personality he’d seen the soldier express. “You remind me of someone, you know?” He said, changing the subject that the soldier was clearly shying away from. “Guy I used to know. He used to challenge everything I said, just to make me explain myself. He used to say he had to hold me accountable or no one else would and I’d go get myself in trouble… I guess he was right.” Steve bit his lip for a moment, gathering up the last of the mush and forcing himself to eat it. At least it didn’t require any chewing. The soldier’s response was barely perceptible. He only sat forward a little, but it was enough to show Steve that he was listening. “His name was Buchannan. Maybe I should just call you that, as you don’t have a name.” Steve looked him over and shook his head a little. “You’re a bit rough for Buchannan. How about Bucky?” 

The soldier was quiet for a long time, and Steve could see the muscles in his forehead and jaw working as he thought through whatever he was fighting against. It was like watching a computer boot up. 

“Okay.” The soldier said, and that seemed to be that on the subject. 

“Okay. Nice to meet you Bucky.” 

-

Bucky wasn’t necessarily the problem in himself. It was more that he seemed to require a lot of guarding. The one time an agent had tried to come into the room to examine him, Bucky had to be restrained to stop him from attacking. It didn’t seem like they’d slip up and leave an opportunity for escape anytime soon. This plan was going to have to be more sophisticated than simply running for the door the next time it was opened. The answer to that seemed to come completely by chance from Bucky during the ninth day. They’d started to spend more of their time talking, rather than just staring silently at the blank walls. In general they kept to relatively safe subjects, almost always talking about Steve and his life. Hydra already knew about him, Steve was certain, so as long as he didn’t give anything about the other rebels away then it shouldn’t be harmful. Bucky shied away from questions about himself, but that didn’t stop Steve from asking them.

“What do you actually do for Hydra?” 

“Missions.” Bucky replied, in what Steve had come to realise was his usual blunt style. Sometimes he talked more, but he always seemed to catch himself, as if he wasn’t supposed to do that. 

“What sort of missions?”

“Assassinations, mostly. I don’t remember all of them.” 

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t have access to the memories of certain missions.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. He was having to learn to be a bit more direct with what he said. 

“Why don’t you remember?”

“They wipe me.” 

Steve frowned. Wiped him? Wiped his memory? He wasn’t sure he’d be able to work out how, and he didn’t think he’d want to hear Bucky explain how. It couldn’t be pretty. Why would they want to wipe Bucky’s memories? He was a soldier, an assassin. Surely they’d want him to know as much as possible. Unless he’d seen things they didn’t want him to. This explained why he didn’t have a name. They’d probably wiped that too. 

“What did they leave? I mean, what do you remember?” Steve asked. That seemed like a safer question. 

“Training. Strategy. Details about Hydra. The method is not precise, but things are kept when they’re repeated enough.” Bucky said. His eyes flitted up to the camera, almost as if he felt he’d said too much. And Steve knew what he meant. 

“Details about Hydra.” He echoed. He didn’t ask the question out loud, knowing they’d be listening as much as watching. Instead he just looked at the door and back at Bucky, quick enough that he hoped the camera wouldn’t pick it up. There was a moment, he felt his heart rate pick up. This might be the beginning of a plan. Less than the beginning, barely a concept. Bucky might not want to help him at all, he was Hydra after all. 

And then Bucky nodded. 

He knew the base. He knew the way out. And he was willing to show Steve.


	4. Chapter 4

The advantages of taking Bucky with him were pretty obvious. Bucky was strong, strong enough that it had taken a few guards with cattle prods to keep him down when they’d entered the cell. Bucky would be able to lead him outside. Bucky might give him a chance of actually making it, rather than dying trying. 

The disadvantages were also obvious. Well, the one disadvantage. Steve didn’t know if he could really trust Bucky. 

They slept in the same room, they’d spent ten days together by now talking aimlessly about Steve’s beliefs and history. That brought a level of companionship. And it was becoming clearer every day that Bucky was a prisoner, not just in this cell but in Hydra itself. He didn’t know who he was, or why he was here. 

It didn’t stop him from being part of Hydra though. 

Steve thought on the tenth day that he might have more than just the beginning of a plan. He couldn’t talk it through with Bucky, not with the surveillance, so he just had to hope that Bucky would go along with him. Steve could grab a weapon, in case Bucky turned on him. It would be a small form of protection, but it would be better than nothing. Steve knew he didn’t stand much of a chance if Bucky did try to attack him, but he wouldn’t give in. He’d fight if he had to.

The thought was often in the back of Steve’s mind as they talked. He asked Bucky about his time with Hydra, and often got vague non-answers in return. It probably wasn’t fair to quiz him on his opinions of Hydra, not while people were listening in, but Steve wanted to know his allegiance. Was he here by choice at all? Would he even remember if he was? Could he really be here willingly, if he didn’t remember why he joined? Bucky had slowly been becoming more talkative, answering more of Steve’s questions about things he could remember, asking Steve more about himself, shrinking away less and becoming all around more open. That stopped on the eleventh day. 

It had all seemed normal when they woke up, chatting idly over breakfast about Steve’s childhood. 

“What was Buchannan like?” Bucky asked, finishing his food before Steve as usual. “The person you named me after.”

“He was brave.” Steve said. “And he didn’t take any shit from anyone about anything. He was always more sensible than me. He used to pick me up off the ground and say ‘Steven Rogers, your ma gave you a brain between those ears, use it’.” Steve chuckled, managing not to grimace as he ate the last mouthful of their breakfast mush. 

“Where did he go?” Bucky asked. Steve went quiet for a moment. Every piece of information he let Hydra hear was a risk, but what were they going to do about a dead friend?

“The army.” He said, clearing his throat. “I tried to sign up with him but…” - he chuckled, but there was no amusement behind it - “... I’m not exactly up to scratch. He shipped off, and next thing we knew his family got a letter saying he was gone. He’d spent his life saving people, saving me, and when he needed me I wasn’t there.” Steve shook his head a little, sighing and sitting back. He pushed his empty tray away. “That was a while ago now though.” He looked up, frowning at the look on Bucky’s face. 

Bucky looked startled. He was still, seemingly frozen in place with his eyes fixed on Steve. His breathing was heavy and his fists were clenched. Something was happening in that fractured mind and Steve couldn’t start to guess what it was. Slowly he seemed to come back to himself, and he dropped his eyes to the floor. He pushed his tray towards the door, before lying down facing the wall. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, but he got no reply. Bucky stayed like that for the rest of the day, not getting up even when more food was pushed through for them. Something had happened, but Steve didn’t know what.

-

On the twelfth day, Steve started wondering if he should do something to get the guards to come inside. It had been several days since anyone had opened the door, and that was a crucial first step if he had any hope of escaping, even if Bucky was seemingly no longer talking to him. This plan was still the best he could come up with. Maybe he could fake a medical emergency, get them to come in and check on him then start fighting back when they were close enough. He didn’t know if he could count on Bucky to fight with him right now, but he might be able to get the drop on them by himself as long as he could grab one of their weapons. He might not be big or strong, but he could be fast when he needed to and people tended to underestimate him.

Steve was staring at the wall, thinking through his chances when the door finally opened.

Steve jumped to his feet, seeing Bucky finally sitting up and starting to get up. Steve’s eyes flicked between Bucky and the guard, trying to work out if Bucky would cause enough of a commotion for him to grab a weapon. He had to go for it, he had no idea how long they’d have to wait before the door next opened. Steve gave one last look to Bucky before lunging for one of the guards’ holsters.

He didn’t get very far however, before another guard rammed the hilt of his gun into Steve’s temple, forcing him to the ground before he could reach the weapon. 

“Still feisty, eh?” The agent said with a laugh. “Would’a thought two weeks in a box would mellow him out. Cuff him, drag him if you need to.” 

Steve tried to scramble to his feet before they could grab him, but he felt heavy duty cuffs clamping round his wrists as they were yanked behind his back. As he was forcefully manhandled out of the room, he cast a glance back at Bucky. He was standing, watching Steve being dragged away, not moving. Steve struggled against the agents holding him, turning back just to shout at Bucky. 

“Coward!”

He saw a moment of recognition in Bucky’s eyes, along with his muscles tensing all over his body. Suddenly Bucky moved forward towards Steve, before being stunned by an agent with a cattle prod. Steve heard his body hit the ground as he was dragged away down the long featureless corridor. 

He kept fighting as he was pulled into a new room. This one had a lot more in it than their cell. There were computers all over the place, weapons and other equipment were littered over surfaces and mounted on the walls. 

And in the centre of the room was a large, mechanical chair.


	5. Chapter 5

“What the fuck are you doing?” Steve yelled as he was forced to sit. His hands were uncuffed from behind his back and bound to the chair instead. He shouted and cursed, kicking at the agents as they tried to tie his feet down too. 

“Welcome, Rogers.” A new agent said as he walked into the room holding a clipboard. “Let's get this started, shall we?” He headed over to one of the computers with a man in a white coat. 

“What are you doing to me? Let me out!” Steve shouted, yanking hard enough against the restraints that he was sure they would leave bruises. He could see the agents who’d brought him in here moving about to the side, and then his head was being clamped in place. He suddenly had flashes of memory, something like deja vu but filled with fear and pain. “No! Let me go!” He screamed, thrashing as he heard the machine firing up and saw the agents moving away.

The first jolt of pain was accompanied by a gunshot. Steve tasted blood in his mouth as he bit down on his tongue, not even able to open his mouth to scream in pain.

It felt like eternity, or perhaps only a second, but suddenly it was over. 

He opened his eyes, not realising he’d squeezed them shut at the first surge of electricity. He must have had them closed longer than he’d realised, because everything was different. All the people were different, the computers looked different. They looked like older, bigger, clunkier models. The words being spoken to him were in a different language that he understood despite never hearing before. Things shifted as he tried to look at them. People’s faces changed each time they turned their heads. The words started to blue and he couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. An agent said something angrily, leaning in and slapping him across the face.

The room jolted into focus. It was different again, but this time it was sharp and unmoving. Most of the room looked the same as when they’d started up the machine. Steve took a breath, although it was shaky and his chest hurt. He looked across the room. Most of the agents were gone, but he didn’t see that one who’d walked in with the clipboard any more. Some were still there, lying motionless on the ground. Some had pools of blood beneath them. The only man standing was Bucky. 

“What’s happening?” Steve tried to ask, but his speech was a little slurred. 

“We’re leaving.” Bucky said, pulling at the buckles holding Steve down. He grunted in frustration, using his metal hand to rip them off instead. 

“You came for me.” Steve mumbled. It appeared he’d underestimated Bucky’s strength, especially in that metal arm. It still wouldn’t be easy to get out of here, unless Bucky had killed every agent in the base already. Steve suddenly understood the look on Bucky’s face when he tried to think too hard, like cogs grinding in his brain as he tried to string logical steps together. He felt exactly like that, trying to understand what was going on. “Why?”

“We don’t have time for that.” Bucky said, getting Steve’s last limb free and helping him out of the chair. Steve managed to take a few steps on his own, looking around the room again. He was about to head to the exit with Bucky when something caught his eye.

“Wait.” He said, looking at a screen. There were some videos playing, surveillance tapes of this room and some cells that looked similar to theirs. Each of the videos was different, clearly decades apart by the technology and the agents present were different each time. Some showed the chair being used. Some showed prisoners being subdued. Some showed some sort of tube with a person frozen inside, Steve couldn’t work out what it was even if it looked familiar. But they all had one constant. “How are all these videos of me?” 

-

Rumlow managed to get away from the soldier, running away with what was probably a broken shoulder. He pulled out his phone with his good hand, calling the Director. This was going to be bad for him, he might lose his job, or worse, but he needed to call it in if he had any hope of getting the back up they needed. When the phone finally stopped ringing, he heard the Director’s secretary on the other end.

“Hello, if you have a message for the Director I can-”

“He’s gonna wanna take this one. Put me through.” Rumlow spat, a little breathless as he continued running towards the exit. 

“The Director is currently un-”

“Put me through! The asset’s out!” Rumlow shouted. He heard the tone on the other end as he was transferred. 

“Whatever this is about it better be important.” The Director spat. 

“The asset broke out of containment. At least three casualties.” 

“What? How did this happen? You were supposed to watch them!”

Rumlow winced. This was all going to look very bad for him. “We got the chair fixed so we were taking Rogers for wiping and storage. The asset overpowered the guards during the transfer.” 

“You idiot.” The Director said. “I’m sending backup. Do not let them get out of the base.” 

“Yes sir.” Rumlow said, gasping as he tried to move his injured arm.

“You have no idea how important those two are. More important than you. Do not fuck this up.” The Director warned, before hanging up the phone. Rumlow managed to get his gun back in his good hand, raising it as he carefully made his way around a corner. When the next hallway proved to be empty, he pulled the alarm. 

-

Steve frowned at the videos. He watched himself sit in that chair, over and over, getting electrocuted until whatever scientist was there told them to stop. There were pictures of him he didn’t recognise, wearing clothes he’d never owned. Pictures with people he’d never met in places he’d never been to. Some of these pictures looked old, grainy and monochrome. 

“What the hell is going on?” Steve breathed, leaning on the desk and slumping into a chair as he tried to make sense of what seemed to be a file about him. He read the details at the top of the screen. ‘Steve Rogers. Project Sleeper. DOB 07/04/1918’. He felt like his chest was clenching, he couldn’t breathe in properly. “This says I’m… over a hundred years old.” He said. An alarm started to sound outside, but Steve barely heard it.

“We need to leave.” Bucky warned, but Steve didn’t even look up at him. 

“Why do I… I remember some of this.” Steve breathed. Details of rebellion groups he’d been part of. They were all over a decade apart, spread all over the globe, dating back to the 40s. He knew these places, if he thought hard enough he even knew some of these languages. 

“We don’t have time. Steve, we need to leave.” Bucky said more insistently. 

Steve looked around, seeing a drive plugged into the computer. He yanked it out, and as he did all of the files on him disappeared from the screen. He shoved it in his pocket and stood, only just trusting his legs to support him. 

“Let’s go.” He said, leaning down to grab a gun from one of the agents on the floor. He looked at it, hoping he’d be able to shoot straight, before heading to the door.


	6. Chapter 6

As they made their way out of the room, the alarm blared around them, unbearably loud. Steve clenched his jaw, trying to stay aware of his surroundings despite the noise making his head throb in pain. He wasn’t fully steady on his feet yet, but he was managing to walk along the corridor slowly. He followed Bucky’s lead as they went through the various hallways. 

“Where is everyone?” He eventually shouted over the noise. He didn’t get a reply from Bucky. The emptiness wasn’t sitting right with him, surely someone should be trying to stop them leaving. They made their way down each hallway carefully, keeping close to the wall before going around each corner. Steve lost track of the twists and turns, just trying to focus on staying upright. 

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand was on his chest, stopping him in place. Steve looked up, realising he’d been staring at his feet in an effort to keep putting one in front of the other. He made eye contact with Bucky, trying to gauge how much danger they were in. From the blank, soldier-like stare he got back, he guessed it was quite a lot. Bucky’s jaw clenched, adjusting his grip on his gun. He nodded sharply, before starting to lean out. 

The alarm stopped before he could shoot. Bucky moved back behind the wall, his eyes darting back and forth. 

“Hello, Steven.” A voice came over the tannoy. Steve’s ears were still ringing from the alarm, but he was starting to hear the shuffling of boots from down the corridor. It sounded like a lot of them. “I have to congratulate you, this is the furthest you’ve ever gone. We didn’t expect you to break the asset so quickly. We’ll have to make some adjustments in the future.” 

Steve looked over at Bucky, seeing that he was barely moving, a frown on his face as he stared up at the wall. 

“I’m afraid it’s the end of this little escape now. Next time we’ll send you somewhere a little bit farther from home, clearly there were too many triggering situations.” 

“What do you mean? You didn’t send me anywhere!” Steve said, his voice rough and rising to a shout. He should be smart, he should be thinking about escape, but his head was pounding and he felt dizzy and he had no idea how he could possibly be in all those videos. “I don’t work for you, I’ve been working against you for years!”

“For two years, three months and twelve days, to be exact. At least, until the moment you were brought back in.” The man on the tannoy chuckled. “It’s one constant about you, I’m sure you’d be very proud to know. No matter where we put you, you always fight against us. You start rallying people behind you, you work your way up in whatever resistant group we plant you in until you’re a pivotal figure. Important enough that the organisation crumbles when you’re killed by Hydra.” The man’s laugh was dark, sending a shiver down Steve’s spine. “Hope can be a very dangerous thing, in the right hands. Because of us, you give them hope, you make them reckless, you give them a symbol that they can believe in. And then we cut it out.” 

Steve gripped his gun harder. Rage was boiling up inside him. Surely people had kept fighting after he was gone, that can’t have given up just because he disappeared. Even if somehow Hydra had convinced them that he was dead, would it really have all fallen apart?

“You are the best asset that Hydra has.” The voice said, the pride in his tone making Steve grit his teeth. “The best undercover agent we could hope for, because even you don’t know you’re working for us.”

“No!” Steve shouted, his head feeling like it was splitting in two. He tried to think about the people he’d left behind when he’d been taken, but different faces were blurring together. People from all over the world, decades apart, who’d put their trust in him. People who’d believed in him. People who could be dead now, while he kept being brought back here to have his brains fried. 

“It’s time to give up, Steven. We might see each other again in a decade or so.” There was a click as the transmission shut off, and Steve heard boots moving up the hallway towards them. There were so many of them, and Steve felt like someone had put his brain in a blender. It would be so easy to lie down, let them take him back to that chair and make him forget everything, start again with a new life somewhere else. It would be easy, but it would be wrong. 

Steve pushed himself away from the wall, looking at Bucky. 

“We need to get out there.” He said quietly. “And I think I have a plan. Do you trust me?” 

He saw Bucky searching his eyes for a second, before nodding. 

“Good, because this plan is definitely dumb and you’re going to be really mad at me later.” Steve recognised the look in Bucky’s eyes. He’d seen it dozens of times, if not hundreds. He’d seen it as kids, as teenagers, more than a few times as adults. Bucky had given him that look over and over again, over more lifetimes that Steve could remember. For some reason, even though that look was telling him to stop whatever he was planning, it comforted him. It meant he knew he could trust Bucky too. Steve handed his gun to Bucky, before walking out with his hands up. 

“Don’t shoot.” He said, taking a few steps forward towards the wall of Hydra agents in front of him. “I’m surrendering.” His eyes scanned over each agent, their weapons trained on him. “You can take me back.” He took a few more steps forward. 

“Stay where you are.” One agent barked.

“I’m just making your job easier, I’m coming to you.” Steve said, taking a few more steps. 

“I said stop!” The agent shouted. 

“I swear I’m not up to anything.” Steve said. “I’m just walking towards you.” He could see the tension increasing in each agent, jaws clenching and hands tightening on weapons. Almost ready. “I’ve got my hands up. I don’t have anything.” The agents’ eyes started darting towards each other, looking for cues. “Nothing at all…” 

Steve moved quickly, his hand going into his pocket. His hand was empty when he pulled it out, but it didn’t matter. He was already hit. A shot fired into his stomach that could have come from any agent in the group. Steve hit the ground, hearing more shots firing above him. Bucky shouted as Steve saw agents dropping to the floor with him. Steve kept his head down, dragging himself towards a body and finding a gun. He started to shoot at whatever ankles he could see. His vision was starting to cloud and his head was swimming, the shot in his gut slowly taking effect, the gunshots starting to sound like they were further away. He heard his gun clicking empty before his hand went limp, dropping to the floor. He turned to look at Bucky, his mouth open in a muted yell as he held both guns with fierce precision. Steve focussed on that for as long as he could, before his eyes slowly dropped shut.


	7. Chapter 7

“I know you’re not dead. Which is good, because it means I get to kill you.” 

Steve smiled as he heard Bucky’s words, slowly floating back into consciousness. It was amazing how familiar his voice was starting to sound. 

“All part of the plan.” He mumbled his words a little slurred. 

“It was a stupid plan.” Bucky said. Steve managed to open his eyes, seeing Bucky waving a tranquiliser dart in front of his face, presumably the one pulled out of Steve’s stomach. Steve smiled at him, although the waving motion made him feel a little queasy. 

“Still worked.” 

-

“We can find them.” The agent said. “We have agents going through the footage, every single soldier is on high alert for any sign of them.” 

Alexander Pierce looked out the window, over the city. He was quiet for a long moment. Not one of their people had escaped the base that night. He’d been warned, many years ago, that he was playing with fire. It hadn’t been his idea of course, he’d inherited the project from his predecessors, but he liked to think that he’d nurtured it, improved it, made it what it was today. He’d been the one to create the footage of Rogers being killed by the asset, a work of art that he’d used successfully over and over again to topple rebellions. All it had taken was some poor unfortunate who bore a striking resemblance to a certain short blond, when seen on the grainy footage at least. But that was back when they'd had far more control over the asset, when he would kill on command. 

“Director?” The agent said carefully. 

“Once they’re found, we’re going to need to restructure.” Pierce said, still not taking his eyes away from the view. It was one of his favourite things about this building. He could look over the whole city from up here. All of it was his, he owned every building and street and person down there below him. And somehow, the two people he should have had the tightest grip on had slipped away. “Clearly we can’t risk this happening again.” 

“What sort of restructure?” The agent asked. 

“Those two will need to be kept apart. Rogers no longer has a calming effect on the asset, at least not one that lasts long enough for us to take advantage of it.” Pierce said. “Rogers will need to be kept on a tighter leash. And the asset…” He sighed. The asset had been so perfect, a precise machine that obeyed every order and never faltered. Now only time would tell how broken he was. “We’ll have to assess his usefulness. Whether he has anything more to give to Hydra.” 

“Of course sir.” The agent said. “Both of them will be brought in alive. I’ll make sure of it.” 

“Good. This could be a big opportunity for you, Agent Ward.” Pierce said. “But you don’t want to know what happens to people that fail me.” 

-

Steve didn’t recognise where they were, but the room was bare. Not bare enough to look like a cell, just somewhere that looked like it had been empty for a while. Thankfully there were a few pieces of furniture, and he seemed to be lying on a thin mattress on a low bed. From the view outside it looked like they weren’t anywhere near a city. A cabin in the woods, perhaps. 

“What if they’d had bullets? We’d both be dead.” Bucky huffed.

“And then we’d be useless to Hydra.” Steve mumbled. “You heard the man. I’m their best asset, they were never going to send people armed to kill me.” Bucky only rolled his eyes at that. 

“It was still dumb to get shot, even with this. If they’d got a good shot on me I would have been useless and we’d both be back in that chair by the end of the day.” It was the most talkative Bucky had been in days, Steve thought to himself. Since Bucky had started remembering, he was realising. 

“I trusted you.” Steve mumbled, frowning as his head started hurting through the haze of whatever had been on that dart. “When they took me to the chair, you tore through the guards to get me. I knew you had my back. Besides, they kept you dressed in all that leather, hard to get a dart through that. I had it thought through.” 

“I guess I’m seeing now why all those people kept following you. You’re reckless, but effective.” Bucky said, putting the dart down. “Every time they put you back out in the field.” Steve frowned and shook his head, although that made the world spin so he stopped quickly. 

“Don’t say it like that.” He mumbled, trying to hold still and closing his eyes. “Makes it sound like I’m one of them.” He took a slow breath, hoping the lingering after effects of the tranquiliser would leave quickly. “How much do you remember?”

“More than you, I think.” Bucky said. “Hearing you talk about… well, me. It brought some things back. Not things from the stories, but I remembered you telling me that story before. And when I remembered that, I remembered that the last time you told me, I’d remembered things too. Not as quickly though, you were gone as soon as I put it together last time.” Bucky took a breath. “Then things just started coming back.”

“So they’d put us together before?” Steve asked. “Every time?”

“Seems like it. I have a feeling there’ll be more answers on that drive you stole.” Bucky came to sit on the edge of the bed. “Do you remember anything? Or are you just joining dots?”

“Pieces.” Steve said. “I remember some of the things I saw in the pictures. I guess I remember being in the chair before…” He closed his eyes for a second to take another slow breath before reaching for Bucky’s hand. “I remember you.” 

He looked up at Bucky’s face. Bucky knew what he meant. He squeezed Steve’s hand back softly, before bringing it up to kiss his knuckles softly. 

“I missed you.” Bucky said quietly, the breath warm against the back of Steve’s hand. “I remembered you, but I couldn’t say anything.” 

“I know.” Steve whispered, pulling Bucky closer, moving to let him lie down even though it felt like the earth tilted below him when he did. Bucky’s arms around him were worth it though, his face pressed against Bucky’s broad chest, finally out of those leather straps. “I remember you. I remember everything about you.” 

James Buchannan Barnes. That was his full name. He’d not gone by James when he was younger because there was already a boy at school named James and everyone found it confusing, so he’d introduced himself as Buchannan. Then eventually just Bucky. They’d grown up together, done everything together, fallen in love together. Steve had loved Bucky since he was sixteen years old. Enough that, even through decades of memory loss and brainwashing, every time they were brought together Bucky knew him enough not to hurt him. Every time Steve had been put in a room with him he’d calmed down. A reward, of sorts, for good behaviour. 

Always the last face Steve saw before he was given a new life. 

“You went missing, in the army. In the war. As in, the second world war.” Steve said, wanting to get whatever he could remember out in the open. “I… I remember the bombs, all over the world. Hydra took over, after that.” These were things he’d learnt about their history, common knowledge, but he could feel threads of them in his mind. Not memories yet, but they could be one day. “I was part of the first rebellion. I saw some pictures on that computer. I know those faces. All of us fighting against Hydra know those faces. The founders of the Shield… And I was there with them in those photos.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “That must be how they got me, when Shield fell...” He closed his eyes tight, not sure what he was trying to block out. His head was only swimming more, with everything he tried to remember it felt harder and harder to keep his grip. Every thought felt like walking through treacle.

“I think that’s enough for now.” Bucky said softly, stroking Steve’s hair gently in an attempt to calm him down. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of Steve’s head. He gently moved Steve’s hands out the way, and Steve opened his eyes to look at him, carefully tilting his head up. Bucky’s eyes were dark, and Steve knew that this man would do anything in the world to keep him safe. He also knew he’d do the same. He moved forward, ignoring the way the world lurched beneath him as their lips met. Bucky kissed him back without hesitation, both of them moving with muscle memory to fit perfectly against each other. Bucky’s hand was on his jaw and their legs were entwined together. Steve couldn’t believe he had forgotten this. Eventually he had to pull back, his head spinning in a way that he couldn’t ignore any more. 

“We should be safe for the night.” Bucky said softly, stroking Steve’s cheek. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Get some sleep. We can make a plan in the morning.” 

“I have a plan.” Steve said, putting his arms around Bucky and closing his eyes again. “All my contacts will still be around. Even if they fell apart when I was captured, they’ll come back. And apparently I have way more contacts than I knew, every corner of the globe. Hopefully, they’ll be in that drive.” He leant into Bucky, who was cuddled around him in a way that felt so familiar it made Steve’s heart ache. Sleep was pulling at him, but he managed to get a few last words out.

“Buck, we’re going to save the world.”


End file.
